Princess and Me
by JulieGriffin
Summary: I couldn't believe my eyes when I first saw her; bluish green eyes, slightly wavy, light brunette hair, a sharp jaw line, her delicate touch turned hard. I knew she used to be the soft, confident kind, when the world was actually living, but now, she had been changed. She was the quiet yet strong type that was smart about every move. She was kind of like me in a way. (Lexark QTWD)
1. Welcome to Zedworld

I couldn't believe my eyes when I first saw her; bluish green eyes, slightly wavy, light brunette hair, a sharp jaw line, her delicate touch turned hard. I knew she used to be the soft, confident kind, when the world was actually living, but now, she had been changed. She was the quiet yet strong type that was smart about every move. She was kind of like me in a way.

I give a smirk, while admiring the girl from my rooftop. I can't find myself setting down my binoculars because it's impossible to let go of such a sight. At the moment, she's bashing in some zed's head with a bloodied-up baseball bat, then quickly switches over to a switchblade that she pulls from her jean's pocket. She jams the blade into the second zed's eyeball socket, pulling it out seconds later to force it through another undead's skull.

I continue chewing my last piece of gum, savoring the fresh mintiness that will soon melt away after a few minutes of munching. Another small grin stretches across my face when I see the girl save someone from her group. He's a fine, young man, if I do say so myself. His skin is quite tan, and his black locks stick to his face by all the sweat.

"Princess has a boyfriend?" I giggle to myself. "Not for long, though..."

Princess (I like that nickname, it suites her) is still kicking at and stabbing the zeds that come at her. The group is probably about half way done slaughtering the small hoard they managed to bump into on their search for supplies. Of course by now, they are almost out of breath, gasping for any air they can intake before their next swing. I see Princess's mother pulling out her pistol, and by then, I decide it's time to possibly call the show over.

"Well, that was worth watching. Time to pull out the big guns." I pull out my sniper rifle and screw on the new suppressor I had found two days ago in some rich person's mansion. "Time to give this babe a little test."

I line up my shot at the zed stumbling after my girl, it's left arm broken off and hanging like a piece of spaghetti. My sights are soon directly on the target of the creature's head, and I slowly position my finger over the trigger, taking in a deep breath. I hold it and gently squeeze the rifle's trigger. _Pew_. I let the air flow out of my lungs as I watch the small figure of the zed in the distance fall, finally lifeless.

Chuckling at her confusion, I watch Princess swing around with confusion written all over her face, glancing in all directions trying to find out what had just happened. She soon gives up and continues stabbing at the undead, while I lean back in my lawn chair, kicking my feet up and enjoying the show progress.

The group finally puts down the the last two remaining zeds. I start packing my things, readying myself to follow them off to wherever they're headed.

It's been about two weeks of tracking and watching from afar. I first found out about the group when I saw their expensive yacht floating off the coast. Over the past week, the group had to abandon their safety boat and went to seek refuge on land. They must've run out of supplies or something. Figures, means that it's impossible to maintain a set system on a small boat. You can't grow food, and you can't have unlimited water. Once you run out of one or the other, you're done.

So, I've been stalking this group for about two weeks, and I clearly remember the first time I really had a good look at Princess. She was a few houses down, and I was in a house's second floor window, peeking through it with my binoculars. Let me tell you, mate, that girl is bloody fine. She's thin and somewhat toned in the arms and legs. Her cheek bones prominently show through her skin, probably from the fact she only eats about two or less meals a day. You can't get good, full meals in the apocalypse, though, so I don't blame her for being a little underweight.

I guessed she was about my height, which means no one has to lean up or down for a kiss (no extra effort, yay!). Princess constantly wears that black and white jacket covering some simple, graphic t-shirt. That flannel is always wrapped around her hips and drapes right over her ass, which constantly annoys me for obvious reasons. Lastly, we have those black jeans that tightly hug her nice, slender, strong legs and disappear into her tan, laced boots. She's an absolutely stunning human being!

Anyways, enough of Princess. Let's talk about her group. I figured the blonde woman was he mother, means that her and Princess look somewhat alike and stay close. There's a shaggy-haired kid, probably slightly older than Princess by a few years, who constantly wears grandpa clothes; I assume he's her brother. Then, there's the two tan skinned men (one young, one middle-aged). The young one hangs a lot around Princess and the other girl (I'll get to her in a second), and it makes me suspicious of their relationship—they seem awfully close. The older tan man is definitely the younger one's father because their physical features are very, _very_ similar. He also has a seemingly close relationship with Princess's mother, which has me questioning the relationship between Princess and Prince Charming (fits pretty well).

Now, onto the last three remaining group members! There's an older Salvadorian man and his daughter, who looks to be in her mid-twenties. They seem somewhat distant from all the others in the group, so I assume they were strangers before the outbreak happened. Lastly, we have the African-American man. He's probably the most dominant in the group, and he's always got some fancy suite on. I'm guessing he's the one who owned the yacht. This man catches my eye because he's very mysterious. There always seems to be a glint in his shady eyes, and he seems to be the manipulative type, or at least could be. He's worth keeping an eye on.

Moving back to reality, I see the group on the move. They're tiredly jogging across the parking lot, away from the large Walmart. A rule of the undead world: don't attempt to raid a large store because you will be guaranteed to run into a hoard of zeds. Luckily, though, the group only had to fight off a small hoard, about a dozen or so. Those bloody things are strong in groups, so the larger the group, the more chance you will of being turned into a buffet.

The group is so out of breath, yet they continue trudging away from the store. I start to pack my things, leaving my rooftop view. I pull my rifle over my shoulder and pack away my binoculars. My gum has gone stale, so I spit it off the roof. Shame to see my last peace go. It was good while it lasted.

I take a nice jog down the four flights of stairs to the ground level. The stench of the rotting zeds I'd taken out earlier today had _amazingly_ gotten worse. The smell had built up in the room and had lingered ever since. This caused me to gag and almost puke up those canned beans I'd had for brunch.

As I steadied myself just enough to make it out of the front door, escaping the horrid reek, I reassured myself: "You're okay, Elyza. Just keep it—" I gag, again. "Holy _shit!_ That's bloody horrible."

The world has been under invasion by the undead for about two whole months now, and I still haven't gotten used to the horrible stench of rotting bodies—I don't think I ever will. The sights bad enough as it is: rotting insides pouring out of corpses and blackish brown blood smothered over everything. I've luckily gotten over the look of the zeds, although, it wasn't easy. The first couple of weeks consisted of my hacking and puking every other time I had to take out a zed. Now, I'm able to easily approach them and kill them for good, without having to struggle keeping down my food. The smell still gets to me, though.

Eventually, I get over my stomach and continue down the street towards the direction the group was headed. I make my way around some small shops, having to kill off a few undead here and there, but not many. I find myself a nice bottle of whisky and an Arizona tea for the road. I also find myself raiding the candy isle of a liquor store, grabbing what chocolate bars are left. There's one last bag of beef jerky laying on the floor, so dinner is served for later. I stuff everything in my pack, then leave the store.

A few shops over, I find myself walking into a drug store. A few zeds are lurking in the isles, and I knock over a stand to get their attention. As always, they come stumbling over each other from the isles. There's four of them: three men and one woman. I take a breathe before pulling out my combat knife and plunging it into the first zed's skull. Quickly, I rip out my knife and jam it into the second's eye. I kick the lifeless body off my blade, hoping to not have any blood spurt onto my nice, new leather jacket.

The other two zed's are taken out with ease, just like the two before them. I take a quick glimpse of my jacket, looking for any blood stains. " _Mother fucker!_ You just had to ruin it, didn't ya, mate?" I stare down at the last corpse, grinding my teeth at him. Nodding, I give his head a light kick with my boot, then leave for the pharmacy counter in the back.

"Let's see what we've got here..." I lick my lips, hoping to find some sort of antibiotics behind the counter. Most of the cabinets are empty, having been raided by people who probably tried escaping before things got bad. Most likely, they probably didn't make it long.

"Ace!" I say in celebration. There's a full bottle of light antibiotics. It's always good to stock up on this stuff, just in case someone needs it. Who knows, maybe Princess could get a bad gash and use a few pills.

On my way out, I grab a pack of pain killers and some bandage wraps that had been neglected on the floor. Just as I'm about to leave, I check the front for some chewies, yet I'm disappointed with only a bag of cheap, stale American candy.

It's about 16:00 or 17:00, and the afternoon is quite pleasant. There's a nice, calm breeze that brushes away any heatwaves, and the sun isn't blasting too much heat, just some subtle warmth. It reminds me of home—the light breezes that would be washing by every few minutes and the heat of the sun in the barren sky, warming the world around you. I vividly remember the hot summers I spent in the warm sea on the coast of Australia. Here, the ocean is cold and polluted. It's overall unpleasant, in my opinion. I'm bias, though, because Australia was my home, until I left off on vacation three months ago. Then, the world went to shit.

I'm about five blocks down from the parking lot where the group was, when I hear a gunshot. It sounds like Princess's mother's pistol, so I take off down the streets towards the group's location.

I find a tall enough building to hopefully overlook the others around and quickly make my way to the roof. I search the area, hoping to find the group somewhere in a decent condition. There are some birds scattering to my right, and I immediately focus on the area. It's a narrow ally way with a _shit_ ton of zeds crawling towards the street. Across the road I find my girl frantically searching for a way around them. I whip out my binoculars and look for her expression. Panic is in her bright eyes, and she grips her knife tightly with white knuckles. I'm about two streets away from her and could probably catch her in a few minutes, if I really ran for it. She's in dead trouble, separated from the group. "Time to save my Princess, I guess. Off we go!"

I immediately hop down the stairs and rush out into the streets. Princess was last near the ally way off to the right, so I gun it towards that area. A few undead catch onto me as I dash down the blocks, but they're way too slow to try and take a bite of this.

I find Princess in no time, cornered outside a small shop. Her clothes are covered in stains, and she's gleaming with sweat. Fear is written all over her face, as the dead close in on her, ready to devour their next meal. "Not on my watch, ya wankers," I murmur to myself before readying the scene I'm about to make. "She's mine to eat out, tonight," I let out a slight chuckle at my last comment.

I whip my flare gun out and load in my one and only flare. Once loaded up, I stand on the nearest car and fire the flare straight in the air. I follow up by banging the butt of my pump-action shotgun into the car's windshield. The glass breaks and creates a loud clashing sound that catches the attention of most of the zeds. They turn from Princess and stumble towards me.

"Dumbasses," I comment before pumping my gun. I take the first shot, and the brains of the closest corpse goes scattering in the air. I chuckle at the sight and continue blowing the heads off of the zeds as they start to pile around the car. I hop off and walk backwards a bit down the street, continuing to put the undead to rest.

My pump-action soon runs out of rounds, so I resort to my trusty pistol. I cock the first bullet into the chamber and let all hell loose on the fuckers. I drop about five within a few seconds. I check over the bobbing heads of the zeds to see the status of Princess. She seems to be handling it pretty well, but I spot a zed approaching her ass.

"Not, today! That's my tush, ya fucker!"

I quickly crawl onto the nearest car, then aim down the sites of my pistol. I pull the trigger, and the corpse behind the girl falls dead. We lock eyes for a second, probably an acknowledgement and thanks. I immediately go back to putting the zeds around me to rest.

My clip runs dry within a couple of shots, and I replace it with another. More undead stumble out of the ally way. I find that we have no choice but to run because they just keep coming, the fuckwits.

At the top of my lungs I yell to Princess, "Get over here! We need to go!"

She doesn't argue or even say a word and simply starts making her way to me. She evades all the zeds reaching for her. One manages to catch her jacket, and she rips it off, leaving the lucky corpse with a souvenir. With only the trouble of the grabber, she's finally by my side. I give her a charming smirk, before I offer her a hand. She takes it, and we both dash down the street.

"This way, Princess!" I exclaim, as we race down the street. "We're going to my place for the night," I explain, continuing to lead her around the blocks.

She's a quiet one, keeping close to me as we jog along. She hasn't said a word at all, and I can't help but wonder what her voice sounds like. Is it sweet and soft or sexy and raspy? She's probably just too tired to talk. She'll probably speak when we get back to my place—it's not that far from here.

Anyways, I sure can't wait to meet her. I've spent the last two weeks following her group, admiring her from a distance. Today's the day I've been waiting for—a day to sweep her off her feet and rescue her. I'm such a sap, I know.


	2. Princess Has A Name

Okay, I was somewhat wrong about Princess and me being alike. We do have our similarities, but we also have differences, which is not surprising. She does seem pretty smart, but she's very shy and quiet. I, if I say so myself, can be a bit of talker, especially when I'm under the pressure of being around someone so attractive—Princess being one of those people. It also turns out Princess has a name after all. It's _Alicia_ , Alicia Clark. I like it—it definitely suites her. Anyways, you may be asking yourself now: how do I know all of this? Well, we made it back to my place safely, thanks to myself.

The sun was starting to set behind the buildings in the area, when we reached my apartment. It really wasn't my apartment, just one I had found a day or two ago. I found it the most comfortable, having it be on the third floor with windows outlooking a good view of the area. There was a large bed and a well-stocked, untouched bar, which was more than enough to convince me to set down base.

To me, the alcohol was a major win. The stash of goodies were hidden in one of the lower kitchen cabinets. It was stocked with mainly whine and vodka—an odd combination, but at least it was some sort of liquor none-the-less. The whisky I'd found today was what I had originally hoped to find in the stash, yet I had been disappointed up until my visit to the local liquor store. Ya know, today was actually a great day because not only did I find myself some nice alcohol, but I also found my Princess.

"Do I know you?" Those were her first spoken words to me. Her voice was not at all what I expected. It was sexy, of course, but somewhat soft yet demanding at the same time. It's really hard to explain. Maybe there's a bit of a sassy tone mixed in with it all?

"Probably not, Sweet-Cheeks. I've been watching you for a while now, though," I reply. "—you guys, I mean. Not just you."

"How long?" She crosses her arms, tilts her head, and gives me an intense stare. Yep, she's definitely a bit of a sass.

"Ehhhh, I'd say about probably two weeks—a little more or less," I lift one of my brows and stare right back into those sea-green eyes. I can't help but let a smirk crawl onto my face.

Princess's weight shifts onto her back leg, her arms still folded. "So you know me?" She copies me and raises an eyebrow as well.

"Not personally," I lightly chuckle, "but I wish I did."

I see her take a in a breath, and her eyelids fall to half-mast for a second, having that her eyes possibly rolled upwards slightly for a second. She finally shifts back onto both legs and lets her arms fall. Meanwhile, my grin grows even more smug. She sighs, giving into me. "So, does my rescuer have a name? Or should I make one up for you?"

I giggle and wave her off. "It's Elyza. Elyza Lex."

With an arm reached out towards me, she replies, "I'm Alicia Clark. It's nice to meet you, _Elyza_."

I see the sides of her lips subtly lift for a second, and it makes my heart jolt. I'm so dazed, looking at this beautiful girl in front of me, that I almost forget to grab the handshake she'd granted me with. I gently grasp her delicate yet strong hand and give it a light shake. She finally smiles.

As Princess releases our handshake, she starts to wander off, observing my place. She finds the couch in the small living room and plops onto it like a rag doll. A sigh of relief escapes her. I figured she'd be tired from today's events.

"So," my voice cracks a little, "what's the plan, Princess? You need anything to eat or do you just want to sleep for a bit?"

"Princess? I said my name was Alicia. Since when was I a 'Princess'?"

"Since day one, Princess. A pretty face like yours deserves a good title, and 'Princess' seemed like a good match. I'm liking it more and more, also. It really seems to suite you." I give her a wink before retreating behind the kitchen counter.

Setting my pack on the counter, I open it to check my inventory. Today was definitely exceptional. I managed to snag some of this really sweet tea stuff that actually tastes good, even if it does contain diabetes. Also, I managed to find some medical stuff, which will probably be _very_ useful later. Lastly, I have my nice, untouched bottle of whisky. The bottle isn't huge, which makes it great for traveling, so I'm grateful for my find. I continue looking through my black pack, brushing aside some candy bars, a brush, and some womanly things in a box. Finally, I find the dried beef and let out an "Ahah!" of brilliance.

"I found the little bugger!" I'm quick to rip open the bag's seal and dig in. The meat tastes bloody sweet against my wet tongue, and I can't help but let out a groan of pleasure. "It's so bloody amazing!" I exclaim, as I take another piece to shove into my mouth.

Across the room, I see Princess laying back on the couch, her arms folded again and those beautiful eyes glaring at me. With my mouth full of jerky, I muffle, "What? I asked, and you never said what the plan was." I continue stuffing my face with food, while still maintaining eye contact with Princess.

She finally gives in and shifts to her side. In a light tone, she replies, "I'm fine, thanks. You don't have to share anything with me. You've already done enough by saving me. I think I'll just try and get some sleep, maybe, if you don't mind."

"You know what," I whip around the kitchen counter and approach _Alicia_ , "I'm feeling awfully kind tonight, and I think it's best if you eat at _least_ something. You look very thin, almost like a walking stick." I offer her the bag of dried meat. She's hesitant about taking it, but she follows through by grabbing the bag. Her face is softer and more relaxed, although, there's still a glint in her eyes. It's most likely stress. She's been through a lot today, let alone the past few months since the world came to an end.

I sit on the floor, my head resting on the couch cushion near her feet. The brunette is quietly nibbling on a piece of meat, chewing slowly and softly. I finally decide to break the silence, "So that's why you're a thin one. You don't eat much, do ya?" I let a friendly smile slip across my lips, hoping for it to only bring more comfort to the girl.

Princess takes her time swallowing her last bite, then quietly answers, "I'm usually not that hungry. I don't really eat much." Her voice trails off, and she subtly shrugs her shoulders. There's sleep lingering in her eyes, along with something else. Possibly worry?

Trying to offer reassurance, I say, "I know you were separated from them, but I'm sure they're fine. They can handle themselves just fine—I'm sure of it." I try to give her comfort. As much as I want to hold her hand, I can't find myself doing it. It's too soon to make physical contact, and I'm pretty sure the girl's already in enough distress over being with a complete stranger.

I get a quiet comment from her. "Thank you," she murmurs from under her breath. Licking her plump lips, Alicia sets the bag of food on the floor next to me, then scrunches herself into a ball. Soon, her eyelids cover those green orbs, and she starts to drift off. I find myself gazing at her soft face, a light smile having crept across my lips. I find a comfortable position, propped up against the couch, and notice that I am entering a sleepy haze myself. Princess is surely gone, now, so I also let myself slip off to sleep.

* * *

There's a faint couple of clicks I hear, as I drift back to consciousness. The light blasting through the windows blind me. My vision is very blurry, and I can barely make out a figure squatting in front of me. Something is being held up to my face, and I try to blink away the haziness in my eyes.

I finally hear someone saying something. It's Princess. "Wake up! Oh my god, you are a deep sleeper."

I'm finally able to focus my eyesight, and I find Princess in front of me with an annoyed expression pasted on her face. She looks better than she was last night, at least the bags under her eyes seem less apparent. The brunette pulls her hand away from my face and rests it on her knee.

Of course Princess is an early riser. She just has to ruin my morning sleep-in. I groan and try to sit up, but my back is not having it at all. "Motherfucker!" I mumble, when I try to stretch. As I shift my torso to the right, I hear something along my spine pop and let out a relieving sigh. Note to self: don't sleep against the couch next time; sleep in the nice bed you have.

After my attempts of waking up myself and my body, I find myself wondering why the fuck Princess woke me up from my peaceful slumber. "Wait, is something wrong?" I ask with my raspy, morning voice.

I search her face for an answer. She finally shrugs her shoulders and replies, "It's just morning. It's usually good to not be asleep during the day because those things are a lot more visible. Also is a good time to get moving before my group does."

"Ya fuckwit! I wanted to sleep in for once!" The back of my head crashes against the front of the couch cushion, and my eyes roll as far into my skull as they can. I grumble at the fact Princess thought it was a good idea to disturb my one good night of sleep and almost cause me to have to panic. I find myself looking back at her and suddenly declaring, "So help me, if ya wake me for no good reason like this again, I will make sure you sleep outside." I take a breath then continue, "And don't scare me like that! I thought someone or something got inside."

She only glares at me. "Like I said, it's a good time to get moving, if you want to find them. They're probably up and packing by now. Trust me, I know them."

My mouth slides to the right side of my face, and I find myself complaining back, "I don't care! They'll be fine, and we can easily catch up. Who made you in charge, anyways? Last time I checked, I saved your ass and gave you a place to spend the night. Now, you might be a pretty face, but it seems like ya got yourself a little attitude." I lift my eyebrows and wait for her to counter that.

She only folds her arms and sighs, "Fine. Thank you." I'm finally greeted with that small smile that I've been waiting to see. The slides of her lips curve up, and little dimples form on her cheeks.

I let out a hint of a chuckle. "Dipshit."

Her smile disappears, and her eyes roll into the back of her head. Whoops, maybe I took that one too far. She's quick to stand up and walk off into the kitchen. I comment across the room to her, "Oh, don't be such a kill-joy! I was only joking. If you haven't found already, I'm quite a teaser. Also, a sarcastic one at times, but just in case you didn't know before, ya do now."

I see those sly eyes peer over the bar counter, and she states back, "I know. It just seems like you don't understand _me_. You see, I'm not the most open to strangers, but I do really appreciate you helping me—"

"—and saving your life!" I add in.

She only rolls her eyes. I swear this girl couldn't roll them enough. She's so dramatic, and I find it actually quite hot, to be honest. She's got that sassy _spice_.

"Hey, darling, if you wouldn't mind, but bring me my sack when you get a chance!" I yell across the room. She's still hidden away in the kitchen somewhere, doing something. I'm not quite sure, and I start to get curious. It's been awfully quiet ever since my last comment. I attempt to take a glance, but I can't find her at all. Moments later, I hear a small snuffle. "That little shit is going to be the end of me, and it's only been a night!" I mumble under my breath, as I get up.

As I hobble over to the bar and round the corner into the kitchen, I find Princess curled in the corner, flopped up against the dishwasher. She's quick to take a glimpse of me, then instantly reaches up to her eyes to wipe away some stray tears. "What's up, Princess?" I join her in the corner, trying to show my concern.

"It's nothing really. The world just sucks." She snuffles again and rests the back of her head against the dishwasher.

"Well, you're right about that, but at least you still have family. I had to leave mine back at home, and I never got to really say goodbye." Taking a deep inhale, I continue on, trying to convince her it's not all that bad. "Look, I know we just met, and I don't really know you at all, but I'm sure you're strong and confident. You seem like you can get through anything. Even then, I'll have your back if you don't." I give her a friendly nudge with my elbow and ridiculous smirk. I can slightly see her lips slightly curl up a somewhat, and I chuckle in victory. "That's if you don't decide to leave my ass, first!"

"Hey!" She whines, "I wasn't even intending on leaving you that quickly. Besides, I guess you're right. I still do have family, and I should be grateful for that. It's just hard to leave others behind, before this all happened—ones you loved."

I carefully set my hand on hers, rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand. "Hey," I give her a genuine look, "you'll get over it. Not in a bad way, though. I'm sure they'll always be in your good memories, but don't let them haunt you. Instead, just look back at the happy times. Be happy you had them and were actually happy. That's how I got over all my shit, at least."

"Thanks. I guess I still need a little more time to get over him." The brunette licks her lips and pulls her gaze from the floor up to my eyes. She sighs and nods, then comments, "We should really get going, though. I bet they're on the road searching for me."

To my selfish self, I curse at the fact she probably had a boyfriend. Of course she was straight! Why did I ever even let myself even _think_ she was someone to love that way. I mean it is the apocalypse, but that still doesn't mean everyone automatically turns to anyone they can love. _Stupid_ , _stupid_ , _stupid_.

I awaken from my self-beating and clear my throat. My voice comes out a bit scratchy and it breaks: "Yeah," I agreed, "we should definitely get a move on."

I'm the first to stand up. I offer her a hand, and she accepts with a small smile on her face. I offer back a friendly simper. "Hey," I give her another friendly nudge, "want some breakfast? I happened to come across some good munchies in the store the other day." As I wait for an answer, I start digging through my pack for the candy bars I found yesterday. I also pull out the large can of tea/diabetes. "This is what I've got. Not much, but it's pretty sweet, just like yourself." Trying to lighten the mood isn't my best feature, but it luckily works this time. Her face is brighter, and she lets out a giggle like a child who is about to get some chocolate. It's something I'd love to hear again. Her voice is so sweet when she's happy or at least _happier_. Her teeth are a blinding bright white, and it's a sight I'll probably never get over.

As she's beaming, she says, "You know, you're very nice for a stranger. We haven't had many good encounters, and you've been the best so far."

"Well, I won't dare to disappoint, then." I stare into her sea green eyes and ask, "So, sugar or sugar? And I have more sugar in a can." I pick up the tea, wave it and set it back onto the counter.

"I'll take the sugar," she laughs.

"Which one?" My eyebrows raise.

"Uh, this one." She smirks at me and takes one of the bars from my hand.

I let out a whimper of loss. "But that's my favorite," I pout. She only giggles. What a savage, laughing at my suffering.

She rolls her eyes at my comment and proceeds to only give me a sneer. "Then why'd you offer it, genius?"

I open my mouth, ready for a comeback, but I don't have one. She's a smart, little bugger. The girl was one step ahead of me in this one. This isn't the end, though. I still have the rest of the day to get her back to her group, so by then, I'll hopefully have gotten her.

"Fine," I give in, "enjoy. We'll head out in a few minutes. I just have to get some things ready, first."

I disappear into the back room with the bed. I definitely regret not sleeping there last night, at least my back's telling me to regret it, but I guess it was a good idea to stay with Princess. She was probably stressed the fuck out. Anyways, I know I'm not an old lady yet—not even close—but my back still bothers me when I have to sleep on something other than a decent couch or bed.

I guess you could say I'm a complainer. Complain about my back, complain about Princess probably not swinging that way (I will forever complain), and about my chocolate bar. She took the good one, okay? I haven't had one in a while, and I actually was looking forward to having it with my whiskey last night, until Alicia happened. I guess you just have to enjoy the little things in life, even if some of them are taken away. This little thing became bigger, though. I got to finally meet my girl. Of course it was awkward, but I'm sure she'll grow on me (I'm not letting her go that fast). I'm just hoping I can maybe get into the group. I need someone, anyways. Life is not meant to be spent alone; it's just depressing.

In all, this morning's conclusion is that Alicia Clark is a sexy fuck, who gets what she wants but still has broken pieces to fix. Maybe I can help. That's if she isn't a total sass about it! Maybe we aren't that different after all. She's awfully nice, but she has the small spark of fire in her. It's something I have, too.


	3. Strangers

"Cheers!" I say, finishing off the last zed. I nudge its limp head with my boot and give Princess a cheeky smirk. Her green eyes glance at the lifeless body at my feet, then they travel up to my gaze. She pierces her plump lips together, widening her eyes and lifting her brows at me. "What?" I shrug. Shaking her head and rolling her eyes yet again, she wanders off into the supermarket. "I wouldn't get too confident about this place being safe enough to just waltz around in, Princess!" I comment before I see her disappear around an aisle corner. She just waves me off. I roll my eyes at the fact she doesn't seem to care enough to be cautious. I thought she was the smart, careful kind, but I guess I was wrong. Maybe she is cocky like me after all.

I soon find myself wondering around the same aisle she turned into, yet I find it empty as I turn the corner. Guess she must be in another one. Meanwhile, I make myself a small side mission to find some chewies because I just need something to munch on, something that won't fill my stomach.

Sorting through the aisles, I finally discover the candies. It's a mess. There are bags of spill jelly beans and other American candies scattered throughout the aisle, along with a rotting corpse. I grimace at the unbelievable stench and site. Its guts are spilled out on the floor, and its head is detached from its shoulders with only a few strings attached. There is smeared, rotting blood and insides around the lifeless body. My stomach starts churning, and I catch myself before almost loosing breakfast. "God, you're a nasty fucker, aren't you?" I creep around the lifeless body to an untouched bag of random chocolate candies, then retreat back to the front of the store.

The world has totally gone to shit. It's quite horrid to have to go shopping for food nowadays. You have to clear out the zeds, then find something decent through all the mess. It's a shame that I'm not able to peacefully get my sweets and leave peacefully without having to bash in some undead's skull.

At the front counter, I quickly glance through the stations to see if there are any edible chewies left. I've hit the jackpot. There's so many to choose from, yet I have to go with a basic, sweet, minty fresh flavor. I grab a couple of packs and stash them away. Today is going to be another good day—I can tell.

That's when I remember I still have Princess to watch over. I haven't heard anything or haven't seen her since she'd slipped away. I guess it's a good thing I haven't heard anything yet, but it still leaves me somewhat nervous. She's definitely capable of handling herself, but these fucks can sometimes be sneaky shits that just linger in a corner until something decides to walk by and trigger them.

"Alicia?" I yell somewhat quietly. I try not to be too loud because zeds have amazing hearing, even if their heads are fucked up.

I hear nothing, so I take a quick look down all the aisles. Still nothing. "That fuckwit," I murmur under my breath. I run to the back of the store, only to find a door leading to the staff room. She has to be in there.

Kicking the doors down, I push into the back room. The air is stale and thick with dust. Luckily, there wasn't the familiar stench of decaying flesh. I would much rather have heavy air than the smell of rotting bodies any day. It's a relief not having to smell that when entering a new room.

"Princess, you in here?" There is a lingering silence, then a sudden clatter in the back corner of the room behind some storage. "Princess?" I cautiously walk towards the area the sound had come from. Pulling my combat knife from its sheath, I put myself into a stance, ready for anything to come charging at me.

I'm starting to get closer to the source, but I hear steps nearing my backside. I quickly pivot and swing my knife up to meet whatever stalking up behind me. The blade lands only a centimeter away from Alicia's throat, and both of our eyes widen with surprise. Her eyes glow with shock because I had almost sliced through her neck. I am quick to pull my blade away. My heart is thudding hard because I had almost just murdered Princess, having mistaken her for a zed or hostile stranger. I feel the blood pulsing through my veins, and I swallow the growing lump in my throat.

I find it almost impossible to say anything. Through the thickness built up in my gullet, I manage to squeak out, "Are you okay?"

Her sea green eyes are still widened, her mouth also gaping. She's still in shock that I had almost cut her open if she had taken a step closer. I can see her plump, pink lips twitch, trying to form words, but nothing comes out except a few unsteady breaths. Since she can't seem to speak, the brunette simply nods her head. I nod back, agreeing that that was _way_ too close. I should watch myself; I'm not used to having others around.

Little scatters and scratches sound behind me again, from the back storage shelves. I turn around to focus on the noise, pushing the still stunned girl behind me. My knife is ready, and I grip it firmly, ready to stab a zed through the eyes. We creep closer to the back of the room, and another small clatter sounds from around the corner of the shelf. Taking one deep breath, I ready myself for whatever is around the corner. As I peer down the row of shelves, I find that there is no apparent threat, just a pile of boxes and some spilled products.

"What the fuck..." I murmur while releasing my breath. There is absolutely nothing there except the boxes and their spilled contents, and there's no way in hell a zed can fit under that small pile.

I take a glance back at Alicia, who is just as confused as I am. She's peering over my shoulder, her brows knitted together as she squints at the boxes.

"Stand back. I don't know what the fuck is over here, but it's going to get its arse cut up in a second." I approach the pile of boxes and kick one over. There's a fat-ass rat, probably the size of my boot, that scurries past my feet. I hear Princess squeak as it scatters past her and away to another dark place in the room.

"Yeah, you better run, you little fucker! I could've had your tail for scaring me like that!" I yell at it, waving my knife in the air like an angry mum with a broom. "Bloody hell. You okay, Princess?"

"Yeah," she replies. Her hands travel up to her shoulder to adjust a strap. Wait, she didn't have a pack or anything when we were together.

"Where were you, by the way?" I raise one of my brows and make sharp eye contact.

She simply shrugs off my question. "Just found a couple of supplies in the staff room over there," she points to a small room near the entrance, "and yeah. Nothing much. I found this bag."

"You knob! You scared the living shit out of me. First, I thought you got caught by one of the bloody zeds, then you come creeping up behind me, and I have a minor heart attack, while almost slicing your pretty face off your shoulders!" I feel some rage bubble within me but am quick to shut it down. Why the fuck am I even getting mad over someone I just literally met last night? She's just a pretty face. A pretty face with a nice body; a pretty face with knobby legs and arms; a pretty face with ribs the jut out from under her skin; a pretty face with dried, pink lips and a greasy forehead; a pretty face with a sassy attitude and smart demeanor. I realize it again. I'm protecting her because, even if she may appear broken to others, she still has a fighting fire like I do. We will both make it through this because of that, because we both carry the flame.

"Look, I'm sorry I walked off, but I'm fine. You shouldn't have to worry about me because you've already done enough for me. I can't thank you enough, and I just still don't understand why you insist on helping me this much and actually _worrying_ about me." She's giving me soft eyes, her voice low and calm, almost shaky at the heights of some vowels. "It's just that I don't get how you can actually _trust_ me this much."

That one word hits me: trust. It's not something common in this world anymore—not that it was before. I'm not one to trust strangers, but for some reason, Alicia doesn't feel like a stranger. There's something inside myself that tells me we have a connection somehow, but it's impossible, since we only had met last night. Of course, it could be my inner, screaming gay, but I shove those feelings aside. It's not just that; there's something that has tied me to this girl, and I can't find why. Maybe it's that fighting flame?

Alicia's chest rises, then falls, further exposing her already apparent collar bones. I see her throat twitch, as she swallows a possible lump growing in her throat. She's emotional, I can tell. I want to comfort her, but then again, we're just strangers.

I finally find my voice and say, "I don't know why, either. It just feels right."

She only nods and turns towards the door to the store. I see her trudge across the room, head hanging lower than usual, and she reaches up to her face with a hand to wipe away something on her face. I know it was a tear. She's definitely fighting her own demons, and I let her. I don't say anything and continue on after her, not far behind her trail. All I can do is show I'm someone kind enough to not only care for themselves. I'm a stranger, and strangers don't know each other—strangers don't care.

* * *

We've been trudging through streets and alleyways for the past couple of hours before I call it off for a break. It's bloody hot this morning. No clouds are in sight to shade the sun from my now tender, pink skin. Princess's cheeks are bright red, half from the heat and half from the constant, beating rays of the sun that reflect off of her face.

"Want to climb up top and take a looksy around the area?" I ask. "I bet they're in sight by now."

Alicia lets her head slightly dip down in agreement. I see her chest lift, filling with air. She takes in a breath, obviously nervous, and releases it from her inflated lungs.

I give her a smirk, only to have her sass me. Her eyebrows raise, and she gives me an eye-piercing gaze. If it's sass this fucker wants, I'll give it to her. My smirk only grows. Poking my tongue out from between my lips, I flip up my middle finger. She only responds with a quick twitch on her cheek.

Deciding I can't ever win—no I'm pretty good, I win—I can't ever _silence_ her sassy nature, I decide to approach the building. The doors are rickety and creaky, probably weak from being almost burnt down with the rest of the building. Oh, yes, I failed to mention that half of this building is basically charcoal and ash. Half of it survived through a fire that probably happened a month or two ago when the outbreak happened. It's still held up by some support systems, but its frame and structure is fragile—we'll have to be careful with that.

After I slam the front door down, it crashes onto a the flat, tile floor. Dust particles fly up into the air, showing how unattended this place really is. The sound is unpleasantly loud, as I wish I hadn't tried to make quite an entrance. "Sorry," I wince.

Something finally makes an appearance. A chunk of its scalp is shaved off, and its bloodshot, pale eyes stare right through me as if I'm nothing other than a slab of meat to it. I guess I am, means that it has now decided that I am lunch and Alicia is desert.

I unsheathe my combat knife from its holder, then I swiftly jam the blade into the undead's skull. The knife easily sinks into the zed's brain, and its body immediately falls limp.

"Goodnight, ya fucker," I comment before yanking my knife out of its head. I turn to find Alicia trying to swallow a lump caught in her throat; it's obvious she's still somewhat uncomfortable killing them.

Her foresty eyes are still focused on the corpse that had flopped onto the ground. She takes in a deep breath, then pulls her gaze to meet mine. I only give her a slight nod, acknowledging what she might be feeling. I understand it's something hard to get used to. Your first kill is the worst—the most memorable—but after some time, you get used to it, like it's a daily life routine—which it is. Alicia still doesn't seem quite certain about killing them. She's at times hesitant to bash in a skull, then move to the next one. In desperate times, there's no questioning as to whether it's okay to kill or not, and she takes no moment to think. But at times like these, Alicia still has a drop of humanity left within her—she still has that spark of compassion.

"You okay?" I ask. The girl simply licks her lips and proceeds to nod.

I'm about to turn to find the stairs, but I hear her voice: soft and somewhat weak. I can tell she's vulnerable right now. "Do you really not feel anything when you have to kill them?" She's staring at the lifeless body again. "Sometimes it's hard for me—when I have a second to actually think about the lives these people once had before this happened to them. I just think of how I could have helped them if I had known them earlier." She swallows hard, trying to keep back any pain.

"I don't anymore. I wish I did." I find myself chewing the inside of my cheek. "I guess I was already used to not caring about others before all this shit went down. It was already a hard world for me."

I see a curious glint in her eyes. Her expression is neutral, yet she's searching me for an answer.

She's still a stranger. I can't _trust_ her. The last time I truly trusted someone, they dumped me in the middle of a big city with nothing. I don't even know why I'm actually still attached to helping Alicia find her group. It's ridiculous! It's a waste of time! And effort! I could be off trying to find the right place to settle for a little while, but here I am, smitten by a pretty face.

The thoughts keep forcing themselves through my head, but I'm quick to shove them aside. "Anyways, we should get a move on, Princess. They're probably getting farther from us." The brunette agrees with a subtle shake of her head. We continue into the broken down building.

At the top of a few climbs of stairs, our chests are heaving. A few flights of stairs and a few zeds don't seem like much, but when they scare the shit out of you, it's a lot. The fuckers surrounded us; there were a few up two flights of steps, and the others came stumbling over each other down a hallway behind us. We managed, but it's still never fun to be caught off guard.

The rooftop exit was luckily unlocked, so I pushed through the door. Late morning is approaching, as the sun sits high enough to start really burning me. And that's another thing to worry about during the apocalypse: sunscreen. When it's pretty much already summer in California, the heat can get intense, and the sun can easily burn through my pale skin. You only have the choice of finding sunscreen or water because you either burn or sweat. At the moment, I have to choose to sweat in my thick, leather jacket.

"Hurry up and get your ass up here, Princess!" I shout behind me down the stair well. She's lagging about a flight down from me.

With her heavy breaths, she looks up and glares at me. "Well maybe you could slow down a bit? Not everyone is completely used to running day and night, Elyza." I can't help but smirk at her.

" _Well maybe_ everyone should have done some training? What did you do before the apocalypse? Sit at home and do homework all night?"

Princess is half way up the last flight before she pauses and glares at me. "Of course I was! What else was I supposed to be doing?"

"I don't know, having fun, being a rebel, ditching?" I suggest. Shrugging, I give her a joking look.

"Well, _Elyza_ ," she says, making sure to really emphasize my name, "maybe some people had plans before the apocalypse decided to happen. Maybe some of us wanted to go to a nice school and study for a professional degree."

I brush it off. "Ehhh, doesn't sound quite as fun, but I guess we all have a different definition of 'fun.'"

She's shuffling up the last couple of steps and stops right in front of me at the top of the stairs. "It may not always be fun, but at least I had a future planned out. I don't know about you, but I was going to have my own life set up." Her eyes burn through me with her stern expression. I can see she's hurting. The pain is shooting out from her overall energy. I also notice the knot in her throat as she swallows it deeply, before she decides to push past me. Her shoulder doesn't barely brush past mine; she knocks me from my balance a bit, enough to make me step back to regain my stance.

I almost want to retort back with a "can't you pay _some_ respects to the door woman holding the door open for you?" but decide not to. She's broken, and it's understandable that her fuse is being pushed to the limits. It was lit long ago, but right now, it's very close to detonation.

The brunette has made her way to the edge of the roof. She's leaning over the low wall that divides her from the building's five story fall. Her light hair flows in the gentle breeze, while I still stand at the door licking my lips like a thirsty bitch. I have to admit I am, and I can't help but enjoy my sight right now. I can't lie because she is stunning. Very stunning. I, of all people, was lucky enough to find the last pretty face on Earth. I don't deserve this—I don't deserve her.

I'm awakened from my haze when gunshots sound from a distance and echo throughout the area. It has to be her group.


	4. Burning Up

Both Alicia and I scramble around the corners of every block, making it closer and closer to where we last heard the gunshots. Our breaths are heavy, yet we still continue down yet another street, searching for any evidence that some had been in the area.

"Elyza!" She yells as she heaves over to catch he breath. "I—" she gasps, "I think they went over there." Her chest risings dramatically as she inhales another breath of air, then it deflates as her lungs push out the unnecessary air needed.

I myself am having trouble keeping my breath steady. Although I'm not as desperate as she is for air, I still find myself breathing pretty heavily. I guess I need to work out more...

It's the early afternoon; the sun has risen enough to dramatically change the temperature. I would guess that in the morning it was about 24°C, but in Southern California, the afternoon's summer heat will rise drastically, probably bringing the heat of the day to 35°C, if not more.

"Okay," I agree. I lead, jogging off in the direction that Princess had pointed to. It's down a narrow alleyway where multiple corpses lay lifeless on the concrete. Their skulls are bashed in, and their brains leak from their head wounds. I can't help but gag at the smell. _Again_ , it's the smell that gets me; it always is.

Behind me, I hear someone heave. It's Alicia, and her stomach unloads the little of what we'd had for brunch. The contents spill all over the ground next to a dead undead. The poor girl still can't keep it down around them.

"Hey," I say, quick to pull her hair back over her shoulders. I gently pack her back as she finishes her dry-heaving. "There ya go. All better now?" She lifts herself up more but still counts on her legs for balance. Her hands lay on her upper thighs, propping herself up as much as possible. Weakly, she gives me a nod, not even looking up at me.

"Look, either we get moving or we find a place to rest." I give a shrug before continuing, "I don't think you're in the condition to move forward after this, but it's up to you."

"I want to find them," she says with a husky voice. It's dry and weak, and I can tell she isn't in the best shape. Of course, no one would be "fine" in our situation, having that we have limited supplies and medical care. With the heat wave coming in over our heads, now seems like a time _not_ to continue. I can't control her, though. She's able enough to know when to stop, when to call it. We're strangers, and I don't know her enough to make decisions for her. All I can do is help—help a pretty face find her group again, then God knows what happens after.

I'm about to accept that we start off again, but after a couple of deep, rough coughs that come from her frail frame, I'm convinced that we find a resting place. I'm calling the shots right now, even if we _are_ strangers. "Okay," I say as I pull my pack from my back to find some water, "first off, waterfall this, rinse your mouth out, then drink some." I hand her the uncapped bottle. "Second, we're finding a place to stick for the rest of today. I don't need you to chuck up any more; you sound sick as all hell."

After spitting out some water, she locks eyes with me. "I'm fine," she states. It's a firm statement, almost convincing but not quite, especially when she starts hacking again.

"I don't think so..." My voice trails off, and my lips press tightly together. We both stare at each other for a short few seconds before Princess surrenders.

She rolls her reddening eyes and proceeds to nod. "Let's go," she sighs, while trying to hold back another cough. Alicia tries to take a step towards me, but she fumbles over and coughs again. "I think I just need to sit down for a minute. I don't feel too good."

"No shit. Just catch yourself. I'll keep an eye out." I hold her arms, helping her lower herself onto the hard, concrete ground. She crumbles down onto her side and rests her head on her bony hands. She's laid down, looking somewhat more comfortable and relaxed, but her chest still heaves fiercely, her eyes tired and becoming weaker.

"Five minutes, then we'll see if any of these buildings are clear enough to stay in," I say.

Alicia is looking sicker and sicker by the minute. It's almost strange of how quick she's getting sick. Her eyes are half closed, and she's no longer gleaming in a thick layer of sweat. She's drying up. Her chest heaves as she inhales a breath, then lowers when she exhales; it seems to be getting harder to do so.

"Alicia," it still feels weird saying her name. It's like I know her, but I don't. I'm caring for her like I actually have known her, but I don't know her at all. "Lift your head up. You need to drink some more."

Alicia fidgets and tries to sit up some. She doesn't make it that far, so I prop my arm under her head, giving her more leverage. Her skinny fingers come up to grasp the bottle and hold it up to her mouth. She sips back the last few gulps of punch gatorade I have. Her chapped lips are painted with a light layer of red.

Gently, I prop her head back down and reach back into my bag for the bottle of water. I take two small sips. I can't take too much because I know we'll need it later. The bottle is already half way gone, and it's all we have left to drink. I don't have much energy right now for scavenging; we'll have to survive the night with the few supplies we both have.

"Okay, screw the few minutes. We need to get moving now if you can get up."

She takes her time crawling onto her now wobbly legs. Her balance is poor, and her knobby knees buckle under her as she rises up. I prop myself against her left side for support, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. She feels almost weightless over me.

"Come on," we start hobbling down the alley way back the way we came, "we need to get our arses outta this place before we become dinnies to those monsters."

With a weak voice, the brunette manages to whimper out, "I'm trying."

"Fucking hell, you sound like death," I comment. It's true; her voice is very faint, very weak, and somewhat raspy. "How the hell did ya manage to get this sick so fast?" I grunt, still clutching around her slim frame.

Alicia simply just states, "It must be the heat." She's out of breath—it sounds like she's just ran a race.

"Must be," I agree with a flat tone. "Let's just get you some shade inside here." I point us to face a small two-story shop. _Willy's Leather_ , it reads. Not that impressive of a shop name, but who gives a fuck anymore—it's the start of the apocalypse. I'm not going to even think about the possible dick jokes this one got before the world went to hell.

Cautiously, I set the girl down outside the shop and instruct, "Stay here, and I'll be back out when it's safe. Give a holler if something goes wrong."

I only get a soft grunt in response. She's starting to actually get sick, like a sick you don't want to be when you're without any medical assistance. She's still in the burning heat of the day, luckily shaded under an overhang, though. I find myself snapping out of my haze and walking up to the store's front.

Inspecting new places is probably my least favorite thing to do these days. Out of everything shitty in our current world, searching through abandon, rundown buildings is the worst. The fuckwitts just lag in their corners until something living crosses their paths, then they proceed to scare the living shit out of you and possibly have a good meal. I don't plan on being a buffet tonight, nor do I any night, so I keep my guard up, even after I've cleared a place.

As I push the door open carefully, it creeks open obnoxiously, which is something I wish I could avoid right now. There's dust in the air; it's thick, making it harder to breathe. The shop is filled with racks of clothes, leather specifically. It's understanding because of the shop's name, but it definitely would have been surprising if I had just stepped inside a sex shop. It's a shame it wasn't; it could've made my day.

Through the dull windows, a small amount of sunlight is able to reach inside the shop, lighting half of it pretty well. I see nothing but clothes, both hung on racks and carelessly piled on the floor. The store's back is stacked with a few aisles of boots and other leathery things. As I'm creeping towards the first aisle, I brace myself for a fucker to jump out any second.

Turns out there's nothing. It's damn quiet in here, not a soul—or undead—is around on the first floor. I find that the stair case to the second floor is cut off by a door that's been locked. I recon there'll be something in there. You can bet someone locked a zed up in there. Half temped, I want to be able to knock the door from its frame in order to have cleared the whole building. Usually it's not smart to go breaking down doors, and luckily, today I skip it. I'm too exhausted to bash down the door and decide that I'll get to it later. Alicia's been waiting outside in the blazing heat alone, and she's got heat stroke from the looks of it. It's time to get her inside. Fuck the upstairs room.

* * *

We're settled in. I've checked all corners of the bottom floor, including the staff room behind the register. There's absolutely nothing here, not even a bashing on the door to the stairs. The peacefulness is nice for once. It's the little moments like this that get you, until you realize the girl you set on couch in the lounge room is dying from heat exhaustion. I'm not exaggerating it for once—she's actually dying.

Luckily the broken fridge in the room had two bottles of water in it. There was one snack bar hidden in the cabinets, but other than that, everything else I found was inedible. Yes, the fridge smelled like absolute shit when I opened it, and I don't want to remember any of that. Let's move on.

I hear a raspy, broken voice ask, "You find anything?" She's so weak; I can't believe just twenty minutes ago she was doing fine. The world is a dangerous place now with the undead, but you can't always ignore your own health to stay safe from them. Health is apart of the danger in this world, too, and it has always been. Sometimes you forget about that. Life used to be so easy. Now, it isn't. Life is about surviving, now.

"Heaps!" I chuckle sarcastically. "No, of course not. There isn't shit in here. You reckon I would find a full meal in here?"

"Sorry for asking, then," she huffs.

"Oh, look who's speaking. The one who's going to die if she doesn't get hydrated right now." I find myself somewhat annoyed with her sass, yet she's not particularly fighting me right now. I'm doing the damage myself, and I realize my tone should be readjusted back to normal. This isn't the time for a temper to brew.

As I sit next to the sack of bones laying on the couch, I uncap one of the bottles of water (luckily it's full) and take a chug of it. It's sweet and refreshing. Literally, it is the best thing I have ever had in my mouth. And I've had lots of—

Let's just carry on. That's not important. Living is important now. Surviving is important.

I can see Princess trying to frown and pout. It's a weak attempt, but I have to admit she's cute when she's slightly angry about my temper.

"Oh don't start whingin'! Here." I hold the bottle up to her, and she takes it, gulping it all down. I've never seen someone so thirsty and desperate before. Well, I take that back; I have seen someone very desperate before. It was years ago, but why should I be getting into detail over it? That's not important now! And it probably will never be. Why am I always getting off topic?

The liquid is drained from the bottle in a little over thirty seconds. She loses grip of the plastic bottle, and it clatters onto the hard floor. She pushes her head back against the sofa's arm, not caring about scrunching up her now frizzy, brunette hair. Princess closes those beautiful, green eyes with that dash of brilliant blue encasing along the perimeter of her irises. I soak in the moment, contemplating whether or not this will be the last time I see life in them. It causes something to spark inside me. I can't quite tell what it is.

She's passed out on the couch, left in a deep sleep. Only a minute ago she was awake, and it could have been her last time. I swallow hard, keeping back everything I've held in. Everyone dies someday, and these days, people die earlier than they should. They still die, though, because that's life. Death is a part of life; not many people know that, and not many people can except that. I'm trying to myself.

I find myself wobbling towards the door to the shop, my knobby knees weak and my strong legs gone almost limp. The heat is also getting to me. I'm weak, but I need to survive. My options are limited right now: suffer through the pain of trying to find food and medical supplies, or leaving her to die in there and possibly leaving myself to die as I rest.

Fuck it. I might be bloody tired, but my world isn't going to end yet.

Pushing through the front of the shop onto the footpath, I'm greeted by the beating sunlight. It's incredibly hot out—scorching. I'm already damp with sweat, although, I feel more beads of salty liquid drip from my forehead. I guess it's a good sign. I'm not sick _yet_.

Everything aches: my arms feel like sticks; my shoulders burn, not from the sun, but from the my weariness; and my stomach feels like it's eating itself, from the inside out. My breath is heavy as my lungs are forced to inflate and deflate. Most of all, my feet throb, screaming for me to stop and rest, but I can't. I simply let the fatigue settle in, but I won't let it take me over.

My head spins as I wander the streets aimlessly. The black asphalt of the road reflects more heat onto my pale—now pinkened—skin. I had discarded my jacket just outside of the shop I had left the sickly girl. Exposed, my arms burn up as the sun's rays pierce against my skin. I pull out the last bottle of water I have and swig two sips. Drinking it is the most amazing feeling ever. I just wish I could chug it all down right now.

Before I can no longer detach my chapped lips from the bottle's opening, I pull it away from my dry mouth and cap it. Just as I drop it lazily into my pack, I look up to find myself in front of a bottle shop. Thank whoever the fuck runs this world! As of right now, I couldn't give a shit about my spirituality—I just care about the fact that I may actually survive, along with the girl I'd saved.

All thoughts aside, I burst through the front. Yes, _all_ thoughts were pushed away, even the idea of checking for undead. When you're as desperate as I am at the moment, all that matters is that you take that step in order to ensure your survival. I know, doing a quick sweep of the shop isn't that hard, but here I am, staggering over my own wobbly legs, grabbing onto a nearby shelf to steady my balance. I'm about as useful as a zed right now: clumsy and careless, with food as the only thing on my mind.

The whole shop is filled with liquor. There are rows of racks of different liquors, from wines to beers to whiskeys and to vodkas. It has everything, yet it all makes me want to puke by just looking at it.

I find myself at the fridge section without alcohol. It's stocked full of waters and energy drinks. I'm quick to snatch up a large bottle of water and a large sports drink. I'm keen right now, as I stash them into my bag and finish off the older bottle, tossing it to the floor when I finish it.

Next, I find the front registers, which are stocked with munchies, from chips to some candy bars. I find myself greedily grabbing every unsoiled bag and packing it away in my bag with the two bottles of fluids.

That's when I hear a crunch from a nearby aisle around the corner.


End file.
